


There Was Only One Bed:

by Professor SS19 (ProfessorSS19)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:41:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29536989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfessorSS19/pseuds/Professor%20SS19
Summary: Written in response to a Tumblr post, and situated in the 'He Deserved Better' universe where Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall - in this case a romantic partnership - adopt a young Severus Snape.  This follows situations where there is only bed, over time.  Challenged to meet different tropes: romance, fluff, angst, sleep deprived, family, hurt comfort, and AU.  It was not meant to be this long, and it grew.A couple of dark themes are explored here, but only through hinting, so please proceed with caution.
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore/Minerva McGonagall
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	There Was Only One Bed:

**Author's Note:**

> Without @mmad-lover on Tumblr, I would not write as much as I do, so if you want to blame someone, blame her and her genius.

**_1950_ ** _:_

The Headmaster of Hogwarts despised the tedium of the Ministry Ball.He attended through sheer necessity to keep up appearances, and to appear charming and utterly aligned to the Ministry’s increasingly divisive decision making.He knew that now was not the time for rebellion, and it did make his headship at Hogwarts easier if he attended, and smiled, and laughed at the jokes, and nodded wisely when people sought his opinion.Even if the smiles were false, and the laughter was fake, and the opinion was nonsensical, it did not matter.He was there, and it was often a painful night where he spent most of it alone, surrounded by people.

This year was different though.This was the Ministry Ball of a new decade, and the Ministry itself was determined to cast the darkness that Gellert had inflicted aside with something of much pomp and circumstance and splendour, to remind those attending that the Ministry was powerful, and could bring amends and good wishes.As a result, he had asked his deputy Headmistress if she would attend as his guest.He could not endure this alone - no matter what else he had endured in his many decades - and she had nodded, and smiled that mysterious smile that lingered on his mind, and agreed.Now, here they were, and Albus…

Well, Albus could not take his eyes off her.

Admittedly, he was not the only one.

Albus Dumbledore knew beauty.He had experienced beauty.He believed in the beauty of the sunrise, and of the sunset, and of the dawn chorus, and of the galactic cosmos, and of the single buttercup among a field of green, and in the open and free laughter of those important to him.He knew beauty, and he knew he saw beauty tonight.Her dress was cut to perfection to her figure, her hair with only the glossiest of shines as she moved around the dance floor and surrounding areas with the feline grace that manifested beyond her Animagus form.The green of the silken like material emphasised the elegance and the sophistication of her posture, and where her skin was bare from the cut of the fabric, he found his gaze lingering, like it was forbidden, but also, like it was meant to be drawn there.He wanted to look away, he wanted to pretend that there was not some distinct coiling of something tight deep within him, and he wanted to pretend this was not him, seeing her, for the first time - because he had always thought himself to be better than that -

But he was always attracted to beauty.Beauty was irresistible.

And when they danced, as she insisted, he saw that with her, beauty was not superficial.It shone in her eyes, and it shone in her smile, and it shone in her blush, and when her hand rested on his resplendent purple robes he felt as though it shone there, too, where they touched.It shone in her conversation, never pointless small talk, always pertinent and humorous and sharp, and when she shifted position so, for a mere moment, they pressed closer together, her breasts to his chest, his waist to her hips, he felt that maybe, for that moment, they shone together, amongst all of the fakery of the Ball, something rare and genuine and brilliant.

If she had noticed too, she did not inform of this - at first, at least.

When the evening was drawing into the morning, they retired, to the room provided by the Ministry - they always offered him the same room, and he presupposed it to be closer to scrutiny than he liked.Tonight, though, tonight he cared not for the machinations of the Ministry, for he was following in her shadow as she followed his vague directions, and as he did so, he was most certainly aware that his eyes had not left where the pale of her back met with the deep emerald, and he wondered, wondered most deeply, if he was to rest his fingers there, with more intent than just to dance, what she would do.And when she looked back to him at the doorway to their shared quarters - there was nothing surprising about that, they were colleagues, they spent most of their waking hours together, why not one night, overnight, in fact not really a night, because it was mere hours before the dawn - he thought he saw some question or invitation or demand in her bright eyes.Hypnotised, he neared her,he could reach out, to see how she reacted - if she threw him aside, or pulled away, he would accept it - but maybe she would not -

“There is only one bed.”She announced, to him, not that he was really listening.Her perfume was wrapping trails around his rapidly beating heart.This was a dangerous place to fall -

“I suppose…” She turned to face him, and if she was surprised at his proximity, she did nothing about it - well - she stepped forward, so she was looking up to him, and he was looking down on her, yet he was so willing to fall, to his knees, for her, to worship in the shape of such beauty - “We might have to share.”Her voice was more of a breath, and he knew he should be the gentleman, “Of course not.I am sure I can transfigure something to sleep on the floor - “ He fell silent as she raised a hand to touch his shoulder, but higher than she had before, closer to his neck, and he wondered if she could feel the frantic orchestration of his heart’s desire - “That would be very uncomfortable for you, Albus.”

Had she always said his name like that?

As she moved her hand to his face, he moved hers to her back.

Neither of them pulled away, as finger tips made contact with soft skin.

Like one, she leaned up, he leaned down.The tips of their noses brushed together, startlingly intimate. 

“Minerva,” He whispered, “You look…so beautiful tonight…”

She smiled, as if she had not known, and oh, how he fell for that smile, so bright, so happy, so touched, so emotional, and how his eyes followed the curve of that smile, and how the tip of her tongue wetted lips he thought must be dry yet soft, “As do you, Albus.”

He was stroking his single finger up her spine.She danced and curved in response, and he could do nothing, _nothing_ , but surrender to those lips, with passion, with devotion, with total, utter openness.

And if the floor featured in their plans again, it was not for sleeping.

**_1957_ ** _:_

He stood by the side of the bed, watching the huddle where the blankets rose and fell in a curve that showed there was more to the sheets than just cotton.It was late, and it was dark, and it was cold.There was no sound from outside.The only sound came from inside - from within.

Within the huddle of the blankets.

He reached to rest a hand against the huddle, and he felt it shake and tremble.“Min’.”He whispered, not wanting to intrude, not wanting to enter, not without permission, not without bidding, no matter the torture of standing here, no matter his own hurt, for surely her hurt was far, far greater than his.But he so desperately wanted to comfort, he so desperately wanted to hold her, he so desperately wanted to chase the despair and the tears away, he wanted to give her all of him, all his strength, all his determination, all his everything.“Please.” He murmured, perhaps louder this time, perhaps stronger, perhaps firmer, perhaps a command, perhaps a plea, he knew not, he cared not - he just wanted to be with her.

And after a moment, the blankets retreated, just slightly, and he could see her face in the single candle light, and it was red and swollen and her eyes still flooded with her grief, but she was letting him in, and within moments, he was curled beside her, and she rolled onto her side so she could sob into his chest and his shoulders and his arms, even as they tightened around her, and he covered her head and hair and forehead and tops of her ears with kisses and promises and platitudes he knew he was not allowed to give, but oh, how he wanted to soothe.And she cried, and he knew he was crying too, his tears salty on his lips and her hair, and if she felt him shake, it only made her curl her fingers into him tighter, as if between them, their pain was strong enough to consume them both -

Within it all, he heard her whispers - whispers that became words, and moans that became a sentence - broken, guttural, borne of something neither of them had faced before -

“She would have been…so perfect….”

And he just held her tighter, still, still tighter, and said nothing, because his brave Minerva was, of course, right.

**_1960:_ **

She was already in bed, obstinately reading.Her eyes stuck to the page even as he spoke her name, again.“This is ridiculous.Speak to me.”

“I did speak to you, and you refused to listen.I told you, precisely what I thought - “

“I meant, we could speak amicably.”

“No, Albus, we cannot.”

“My hands are tied!I am under close enough scrutiny as it is - I cannot just charge into another wizard’s home and take their child with no evidence, Minerva - we would never be allowed to keep him, and it would cause much distress for all involved - “

She turned the page, and seemed to be once more ignoring him - but he knew that face too well, and he knew the tightening of that jaw, and he knew the narrowing of those eyes, and he knew the smallest of those frowns between the eyebrows. 

“I know how desperately you want this, Minerva.We both do.But conspiracy theories will not make this any easier.We have no idea how the Princes will -“

“You forget, she was my best friend.”Minerva slammed the book shut, “You are too quick to dismiss concerns when they do not fit with your agenda, Albus.You are too quick to follow the Ministry’s machinations, to make things easier for you - “

“I have not forgotten that she was your best friend, Min’.I do not doubt your instincts.I doubt…I doubt your methods of execution.”He moved to sit beside her on the bed, and he reached for her hand, and she drew it away.“This is not something we can just resolve, like a student with a bloodied knee. We have to be patient, and we have to bide our time - “

She shook her head, and the sentence died on his lips as she turned away, extinguishing the candle with a wave of her hand, and lying down in the bed with her back to his side of the bed.And when he tried to reason with her, she offered nothing, and she said nothing, and she surrendered nothing, and eventually he just went to lie beside her, staring at her back, and wanting to say more, and wanting to say he would do anything to make her happy, but that this was too risky, this was too wild, this was not like her -

“If anything happens to that child, Albus.That is on you.”Her voice was as cold as he had ever heard it.“It is on you.”

They did not speak again that night.

**_1965:_ **

She was lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling.It did not help her to dismiss the images completely, but it was better than closing her eyes. Instead, she simply twisted the blanket around her fingers until it almost hurt, and until they sweat and strained from the determination.She was still hearing the voice of the Ministry official, with that undertone of shock and grief - detailing the scene, detailing what he had seen, detailing what they had found - to Albus, of course, but she had been there, listening, as of course she had.She had listened with a gathering sense of nausea, but the whole time, she had watched Albus.She had watched his reactions, and seen the slightest slumping of his shoulders, and the slightest tightening of his lips, and the flaring inhale of his nostrils - and if she felt some grim rise of triumph, it was because this had made her beloved angry, and if he was angry, then it meant he would take action.

What action, though, was unclear to her, for now.

She could feel him beside her in their wide bed.He had not moved from some time, and she was curious to know why, she was curious to see, so she turned her head, and he was lying straight, on his back, and she could see that his eyes were open too, transfixed, staring up at the ceiling, just like she had been, and she reached for his hand, and she interlinked their fingers, and there they lay, again, for a longer time, for minutes, for hours, did it matter?She stared at him, and he stared at the ceiling, and although she wanted to know what he was thinking, she could see it written, most plainly, all over his face.

When colour was gathering in the sky, he turned to face her.

He looked straight at her.Straight into her.His eyes glistened, not with tiredness.“You were right.” He whispered, and she felt no relief or glee at that, and simply reached to stroke his cheek with their entwined fingers.There was nothing she needed to say - he simply trembled at her touch, and then murmured, “No more, Minerva.That child will suffer, no more.”

**_1968:_ **

Thunder rumbled across the angry sky.It cracked as the wind howled, and moments later there was a flash of lightning that lit their bedroom, lit their bed, lit their trying to sleep figures, and lit the doorway. 

And there, in the doorway, was their boy.Clutching, in one hand, his phoenix soft toy, face drawn, forehead crumped into a frown, shaking from fear, but still silent in determination.

They both sat up, quickly, instantly, and as one, they opened their arms to him - and he ran to them, stumbling in his eagerness, almost not able to climb the height of the mattress, but when he did manage, he scrambled into and under the blankets, between them, and Minerva moved so that he could hide his face against her chest, his magenta and gold pyjamas ever so soft to her arms.He was still shaking, as once more, the storm raged and argued with the sky.Albus moved a little closer to them both, reaching one arm so it rested over both their waists protectively, and the other hand moved so it could play with Minerva’s hair as she soothed a gentle lullaby to the child.“Severus.It is just a storm.It will pass, as all things do, always.”She repeated the gentle words constantly, almost a sing song quality to the words, as Albus smiled at her, and she smiled back - because, even amongst the tangibility of Severus’ fear, there was the shared thought that none of them could be harmed again - none of them could be separated, because no matter where they were, their love - the love that had been between him and her, and now, amplified, a million times over when they looked to Severus, would always bring them back to each other.

And in time, Severus settled, because the two people who loved him most, the two people who protected him best, the two strongest and most wonderful people he knew, were there, and he knew, somewhere, that they had rescued him from harm, and they would protect him from any further harm, and it would be good, always, and there would be a happy ending.Safe in that thought, the naivety of a child, he drifted to sleep.Which left just Minerva and Albus, able to stare at each other over the raven hair of their most precious possession, between them, shared.Albus watched her for a moment longer.“I love you.”

She smiled.“I love you too.”

**_1973:_**

“Ah - wait - Albus, I think you will be just fine - here comes our resident master Potions’ maker, clearly with something to make all of the nasty wizard flu disappear.”Affectionate as always, Poppy Pomfrey watched as Severus, deep in concentration, carried a single flask of some pale blue liquid toward her, and the single Hospital Wing bed that housed an ailing, yet not defeated, greatest wizard of a generation.“Seems to be a Healing Draught.”It was the summer holidays, and Poppy had stayed this time, as there was an apprentice Healer who needed entertaining with Minerva tied up with a Transfiguration conference, and Albus - well,Albus attempting to fight a war on many fronts, not that anyone else had realised it yet.Severus presented the Healing Draught to Poppy, though his eyes lingered on Albus. “How are you feeling, Dad?”

Albus smiled an admittedly weak smile, “On the mend, my dear boy.”

“This looks to be absolutely perfect, Severus.”Poppy evaluated gently, uncorking the flask and pouring a small amount into a glass beaker.“Once an hour, give this much.”She instructed, as Severus settled into the chair by the bed.“Mum said I could stay, she said, she is too busy to deal with sick Headmasters and fathers right now.”

Albus laughed at Minerva’s words in Severus’ young voice, and then coughed, with which Severus’ face darkened with worry.“Of course she did.Did you bring a book to read?”

As Severus reached into his bag, Albus glanced to Poppy,who was confident the Headmaster was over the worst of the illness and she smiled with a simple nod.“Of course Severus can stay, he is no danger of catching it - and anyway, such a wonderful young wizard would never feel too ill!”

Severus read while Albus dozed, until a small amount of time had passed which found them both, quietly talking in the empty Hospital Wing.They were discussing what Severus had worked on that day with Poppy, in between her keeping an eye on Albus, but it was clear that Severus had something else he wanted to say.Albus paused the conversation with a raise of his hand, “Severus.You clearly want to talk about something else, so talk.I can see it on your face, dearest one.”

Severus folded his arms, and then crossed his legs in the chair, and seemed to plunge deep into thought that seemed very deep for a thirteen year old child, and Albus knew that his boy would grow up to be most wise - though how could he not, with him and Minerva for adoptive parents - he was distracted from that arrogance when Severus suddenly said, “You will be okay, though, right?”

“Of course.”

“Because…” Severus paused, tugged his hair, straightened his sleeves, and then looked across to Albus,“I just really love you, Dad.And Mum, obviously.And I don’t want to lose you.Like…before.”

Albus tried not to straighten in surprise at what Severus was referencing, so rare was this, “My dear boy.It is simply the wizard flu - it happens even to the strongest of wizards that you study.I promise I will be absolutely fine.”

“But one day…” Severus tightened his arms around his body, as if he was cold.“One day, you will go though.That’s what happens.That’s what happens to people we love.They die.”

Albus considered, and then held out his arms for Severus.“Come here - unless you are too old for a hug?”

There was this lingering sense that one day Severus would be too old for hugs,too old for bedtime stories, too old to be picked up and put on Albus’ shoulders as they toured the Hogwarts grounds.

It was not today.

Severus practically leapt up onto the bed, resting his head on Albus’ shoulder and the other wrapped his arms gently around him.They stayed like that for a long moment, Severus curling his fingers into Albus’ robes, eyes mostly closed.Albus was aware it was still his turn to reply.“Everyone does die, Severus, eventually.That is the one inevitability of life we can all depend on.That does not mean we should fear it, we can just accept it.” 

“Why - “Severus sat up, and Albus looked into that young face that stared so earnestly at him, “Why can’t you live forever.Why can’t you find a way for you and Mum to live forever.Why do you have to go?You’re good people.You look after other people.You save people.Why can’t you live forever?Why can’t evil people die?” 

Albus waited for the barrage of questions to fall silent, “No one can live forever Severus - that is no life, because if you lived forever, what would be the point of living at all?The point of life is to make as much impact as you can when you are here, and then the world can go on without you, but hopefully a slightly better place because you were there.”He soothed Severus’ hair carefully, “No one would want to live forever.I certainly do not.”

Severus considered.“Do you think you have made the world a better place, Dad?”

Albus chuckled, “I like to think so, my boy.”

Severus settled back against Albus’ chest, clearly with no intention of moving.“I think you have.I think you make lots of people’s lives better.I think you are amazing.”

Albus was surprised and not surprised to feel tears appear in his eyes.“Thank you, my boy - but I care only about your life, and your mother’s life.You are my entire world, both of you.And when you love people that much, Severus, as much as I love you and her, then when I am gone, you will know I am always still here.It might be in your memories, but that does not mean it is not real.”

Severus nodded, but did not say anything more.

And instead, they just fell asleep together, until Minerva came to visit the next morning, and stood watching with the softest and gentlest and most beautiful of smiles, before she was inclined to rouse them.

**_1998:_ **

The Headmaster of Hogwarts despised the tedium of the Ministry Ball, but attended because he felt he had to - whether it was out of legacy, or because everyone else did - or because he was invited, and there had been a time when such invitations had been few and far between.Of course, once everyone had realised just what a role he _had_ played in the war, and of course the Light had triumphed, then the Ministry’s opinion of Severus Dumbledore - he had taken his adoptive father’s name a long time before, in tribute, of course - had changed very sharply and suddenly, and now here he was, brushing shoulders with the brightest and the best in the Wizarding world. Well, brushing shoulders was something of a euphemism - for now, he was keeping to the sidelines, where there was a healthy provision of refreshments and a perfectly good view of those who had chosen to embarrass themselves by dancing.He watched, with a sense of fondness, as the Boy Who Lived Twice span his sweetheart with a flurry of red hair and golden robes with elegance Severus had not expected the once clumsy and incorrigibly irritating Gryffindor starlet to possess.He watched faces he knew, many of them students he had taught, laugh and smile with that carefree manner that could only happen when a war was over.Whether peace would last was uncertain - there would always be those who followed the old ways, and sought to resurrect the old ways, but Severus, for now, was happy to relax, and to watch, and to remember.

He was joined by someone, not the someone he was expecting.It was a man in a suit that was almost as lined as his face, white hair showing age, but an expression that offered friendliness and kindness, and Severus had long since learned that he did not have to constantly treat others with suspicions.“Not one for dancing, Headmaster?”

Severus shook his head, “Absolutely not.”

“Your mother was quite the beautiful dancer.”The other offered, and Severus straightened, “You knew her?”

“I was her tutor in Transfiguration before she returned to Hogwarts at the insistence of a far, far grater, admittedly, tutor.”He held out his hand for Severus to shake, “I attended the Ministry Ball in 1950, when she did, alongside your father.I recall it most clearly.She was very beautiful, and he very striking - and wore purple, as you are honouring tonight.”He paused, with that moment of nostalgia and recollection, and Severus was suddenly hungry for more, “Together, they shone.Lit up the dance floor.It was truly mesmerising to watch.” 

“She taught me to dance, but it has never been my strongest pursuit.”Severus inclined his head, “Thank you for the story.”

“I imagine you get tired of hearing them - but they were both very great people - and I was sorry to hear of her passing, so close to the end of the war.”He raised his beaker, “I imagine they are exceptionally proud of you, and looking down together.”

“Quite possibly dancing,” Severus said with an undercurrent of humour, and the man chuckled in a way reminiscent of how his father had, while Severus simply smiled.A hand on his arm caught his attention, and he glanced to it, “Ah.”

The man bid a closing statement, which Severus did not hear because he had been caught out by the image before him - the brilliant deep green, and those eyes, and those cheekbones - “You look - incredible.”

“I know.”His partner tightened fingers around Severus’ arm, “You do realise, in our allocated room, there is only one bed?”

Severus tried not to flush, “Is that so?” 

“Maybe tonight…” The clause trailed off into a silence that made it clear it was either a question or an invitation or a demand, and Severus swallowed - they had courted for weeks, him too nervous to be attached - but maybe - just maybe -

“But perhaps first, darling, you will dance with me?”

And he thought of his father, extending his hand to his mother - no, perhaps it was the other way around, he thought, with a smile only for himself, and them, where he supposed they were looking down on him - his father beaming, his mother crying - and he reached out and took the hand, and accepted the offer to dance.


End file.
